


Slow Burn

by anthean



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sunburn, plot twist: they're in love, truly this is just inexcusably fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 19:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19026283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthean/pseuds/anthean
Summary: And did he care? Did Thrawn’s motivations matter, if it lead to them standing in Eli’s quarters alone, practically holding hands?--A threadbare excuse for kissing.





	Slow Burn

**Author's Note:**

> as usual, this is 13th_blackbird's fault.

Eli blinked against the harsh midday sun, wishing he could shade his eyes with his hand. He had his cap pulled low over his face, the brim blocking the worst of the sunlight, but the light and heat were still intense.

It had been a while since he’d been planet-side, his last shore leave almost a year ago, and he’d jumped at the chance to visit sunny, seaside, Chirila when Thrawn had requested he investigate their smuggling problem. The Admiral himself was still aboard the _Chimaera_ , orbiting somewhere above the planet, having decided that his presence was more likely to alarm rather than reassure the skittish Chirilite governing council. Faro, Eli, and a junior lieutenant named Sorges had been sent instead.

None of them, Thrawn included, had realized that the Chirilites typically held council meetings outside, in the peak of the sun, and that the meetings lasted for _hours_. They stood on a ridge overlooking the bright clear waters of the Chirilite sea, the sun throwing sparks of light off the water and up under the brim of Eli’s cap, dazzling his eyes. The still air practically burned to the touch, but heavy gusts of wind screamed at random across the top of the cliff, somehow failing to bring any relief from the heat.

A bead of sweat rolled down his spine, then another—the heavy fabric of the Imperial Navy uniform, so useful on cold starships, was exactly wrong for this climate. Sorges looked especially unhappy. His posture was stiff and upright, but he looked like he was battling the urge to slouch. He was from a colder world, Eli remembered, and was probably not used to temperatures like this. They’d have to keep an eye on him, make sure he didn’t get heatsick.

At least there was water to drink. Eli wanted to pour it over his head rather than drink it, but at least it was there.

He wished Thrawn was there, too, but the heat would probably be even more uncomfortable for him. Thrawn kept his quarters a touch chillier than the rest of the ship, something that had bothered Eli at first.

Now, well—he had better ways of keeping warm when he crept through their adjoining door during the off-shifts. Better, more athletic, ways.

His mind drifted to the night before, when Thrawn had shoved Eli to his knees and fucked him until he screamed, until they had collapsed together in exhaustion. He had rested there for a moment, his face pressed into the floor and Thrawn’s weight heavy and solid on his back, before crawling out from under Thrawn and collecting his clothes from where they were strewn about the room. Thrawn had rolled to his feet and gone to the fresher to clean up, and Eli had returned to his room without a word.

Eli shook himself internally, shook away the sense of faint melancholy that had settled over him at the memory. It was too damn hot to be wasting energy daydreaming about what was, after all, just mutual convenience.

Besides, Thrawn wasn’t here, which meant that he’d want a detailed report from Eli later.

The background noise of the Chirilite council increased in volume and he yanked his attention back to the present. Faro was asking if they might inspect the purported smuggling site, the beach at the base of the cliffs where they stood, and the party was preparing to move.

“Come on,” Eli whispered to Sorges, who jumped a little. His foot slipped on the rocky ground, sending a spray of pebbles over the cliffside, and he bumped into Eli. They grabbed at each other for balance, and in the scuffle Sorges knocked Eli’s cap to the ground.

Eli made a lunge for it, but his fingers closed on air: the wind picked up Eli’s cap and sent it sailing out to sea, a dark blotch that quickly vanished against the glittering waves.

“Bad luck, Commander,” Faro said quietly. The Chirilites, impervious to the heat and sun, were moving towards the path down to the beach, apparently assuming that the Imperials would follow.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Sorges said, mortified. The mishap had perked him up a little, at least. “You can use my cap if you like.”

Sorges was so pale his skin was nearly translucent, except for where he was already turning pink at the neck and ears. Eli had no desire for him to end up in medbay, especially when Eli himself was more likely to tan then burn.

He picked up a few bottles of water and distributed them, keeping one for himself and pressing it to the back of his neck. “That’s all right, no harm done,” he said.

He wasn’t sure if that was true. The sun beat down on his uncovered head like a physical force, and the hard glare of the cloudless sky gave his eyes no place to rest. He squinted and shaded his face with his hand, feeling more sweat begin to soak through his undershirt.

“I’ll try to keep this short,” Faro said as they followed the Chirilities to the path. “No point in giving us all heatstroke.”

“No, take the time you need to address the problem,” Eli said. Faro shot him a look, and he flushed. “Of course, do what you think necessary, Captain,” he corrected. “But we have a job to do here. I’ll be fine.”

He was not fine.

Six hours later, Eli dragged himself into his quarters, his hands full of the supplies that Medical had pressed on him. He flinched as the lights came on at full brightness and his eyes throbbed like they were being squeezed, and he hastily turned them down to 25% before heading to the fresher. He stripped his uniform off along the way, leaving bits of it discarded here and there on the floor, until he stood in front of the fresher mirror in just his underclothes.

He had mostly tanned, luckily—Sorges had ended the day bright red and was still in Medical, whereas Faro, having had the foresight to apply sunblock, was already back on the bridge. But the skin on Eli’s cheeks and the back of his neck was tight and hot to the touch, throbbing in time with the blood that beat in his temples. Worse was the headache, born of a combination of dehydration and searingly bright direct sun, that flared with new pain every time he moved his head.

“Ow, ow, ow, _fuck_ ,” he whispered as he twisted open the bottle of rehydrating solution Medical had given him. He had removed his gloves to help dig for smuggling equipment buried in the sand, and the backs of his hands had been badly burned as well.

He downed the solution in a few quick swallows, stopping only to take the Medical-provided painkillers. They’d given him the fast-acting ones, at least. He turned on the water and submerged his hands, hissing first in discomfort and then relief at the spreading coolness, and leaned his face against the mirror, letting it sooth his aching skin while he waited the few minutes it would take for the painkillers to begin to work.

Eli was just starting to feel better when a chime sounded, startling him out of his reverie. He looked groggily around for his datapad before realizing that the chime had come from the adjoining door.

That meant Thrawn was on the other side, requesting entrance.

And requesting entrance as Eli’s—friend? As his—he flinched to apply the word to Thrawn, but he couldn’t think of a better one—fuckbuddy? Not as his admiral, or he would have used the main door. They only used the adjoining door for sex, really, and even then it was usually Eli who went to Thrawn’s quarters, not the other way around.

A thought drifted through his brain, one he’d had before, one he usually had the energy to squash: it would be nice to touch Thrawn when they weren’t either fucking or getting ready to fuck, it would be nice to sleep by Thrawn’s side instead of returning to his own room as soon as they’d both come, it would be nice to not wonder what they were to each other, or if they could be something else.

If that was something Eli could even ask for.

Eli sighed and paused for a moment, dropping his shoulders. His head hurt too much to figure this out. Maybe Thrawn would just...say what he wanted outright.

Well, _that_ was unlikely.

Eli sighed again, then crossed the room and opened the door. “Sorry about the mess,” he said as Thrawn entered.

Thrawn’s eyes flicked around the room, then over Eli’s body, a quick assessing glance. Eli blushed, then told himself firmly that Thrawn had seen him in his underclothes before—had seen him wearing considerably less, for that matter, in considerably more intimate situations.

He twined his hands together, wishing he’d at least put his trousers back on. “Did you come to debrief?” he asked. He wasn’t sure what other reason there could be. “Medical ordered twelve hours before my next shift, I thought you’d signed off on it.” That had come out totally wrong, had sounded like he was petulant about his off-shift being interrupted.

“I came to see that you were well,” Thrawn said slowly. He looked Eli over again, more carefully this time.

“I’m okay,” Eli said. It was sort of a lie; his head still felt fragile. “Look, I need to finish the stuff Medical gave me. I’ll be fine, it’s just not very comfortable right now.”

“I understand,” Thrawn said. “I will go if you prefer. But if not, may I help you?” He hesitated, then touched Eli’s hand, a look of concentration on his face. “These burns look painful.”

Eli’s breath caught at that touch, at Thrawn’s fingers gentle on his palm, at his offer of help. What was _happening_?

And did he care? Did Thrawn’s motivations matter, if it lead to them standing in Eli’s quarters alone, practically holding hands?

“Please,” he said. “I mean, yes, help would, yes,” he corrected, but Thrawn was already herding him back towards the fresher.

Give him a centimeter, Eli thought wryly, and he’d take it as far as he could and then a little farther. But Eli hadn’t cared about that in years.

Thrawn sat him on the toilet and picked the tube of bacta-infused burn gel from the counter when they reached the fresher. There was hardly room for the two of them and nowhere for Thrawn to sit, so he knelt on the floor at Eli’s side. Eli moved his legs apart to accommodate him, and Thrawn settled between them, picking up one of Eli’s hands and examining it.

“Usually I’m too brown to burn much, but the sun on Chirila was unreal,” Eli said at random, then regretted speaking, regretted filling the intimate quiet between them with noise.

But Thrawn ignored him, spreading the burn gel over his hands with careful touches. Eli relaxed into it, let Thrawn move his hands where he wanted them, as the pain of the burns subsided under the cooling gel.

Eli bent his head forward when Thrawn had finished with his hands, requesting without words, and Thrawn smoothed the gel over the back of his neck and the tops of his ears. It was almost an embrace. Their faces were close: Thrawn’s breath whispered across Eli’s cheek.

He could turn his head, bring their mouths together.

Thrawn pulled away. But only for a moment, only to get more gel. Then his fingers were on Eli’s cheeks, soft and soothing. Eli had been looking down, away from Thrawn’s face. Now Thrawn brushed his fingers across Eli’s chin, tilted his head up with light pressure.

Thrawn’s eyes were very close, Eli thought dizzily, very close and very red. His lips parted as Thrawn flexed his fingers the smallest amount, drawing him closer.

Thrawn kissed him, once, twice—sweet, lingering, kisses so different from the ones they usually shared. His fingers were gentle, his mouth soft.

Two kisses, and Thrawn released him. He returned his hand to Eli’s cheek, working the gel into the skin, and Eli reached up and caught his wrist.

“ _Thrawn_ ,” he breathed. His body seemed completely relaxed and quivering with energy at the same time. “What?”

Thrawn was still very close, his eyes fixed on Eli’s hand. “My knowledge of human convention in this field is incomplete,” he said, voice a little dry, and Eli let out a laughing huff of breath: Thrawn only pretended he didn’t know something if he was absolutely sure of what he was talking about.

Once again, Thrawn ignored him. “Among the Chiss, if a loved one is hurt, it is common to...comfort them. To care for them.”

A flash of memory came to Eli then: Thrawn touching his hand uncertainly, asking to help Eli fix himself. Asking to stay.

Maybe he had always wanted Eli to stay.

“You care for me,” Eli said, and kissed him. He tightened his hand on Thrawn’s wrist and brought the other up to caress his face, mapping the prominent bones with his fingertips. Little sparks of joy were crackling inside him, bright and hot and clean, but he kept the kiss slow, soft, adoring.

Thrawn cared for Eli; let him learn, from the kiss, that Eli cared for him too.

He stayed close even after the kiss broke, keeping Thrawn’s hand pressed to his face. “I need to lie down for a while,” he said. His head still felt fragile and dizzy, the remnants of the headache swirled together with the revelation of Thrawn’s feelings.

Thrawn nodded and sat back. “I understand,” he said, his expression blank. “I will let you rest.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Eli said. He thought he had been clear, but perhaps Thrawn, usually so good at inferences and insinuations, needed to hear it outright. “Stay. With me.”

He pulled Thrawn to his feet. Now it was his turn to herd Thrawn to the little sleeping cell, where he crawled into the narrow bed and pressed himself to the wall, making room. Thrawn looked at him for a moment, head tilted slightly to the side, then shed his boots and uniform coat and lay down carefully next to Eli.

Eli sighed with happiness and maneuvered them so that he lay half under Thrawn, the weight pressing him comfortably into the bed. That feeling was back, lazy contentment deep at his bones and shivery excitement setting his skin tingling. He stroked down Thrawn’s back and felt him relax and move closer, his hand coming up to rest on Eli’s shoulder.

Eli turned his face into Thrawn’s hair and breathed.

He didn’t think he’d fall asleep like that, but he did, his lover in his arms.


End file.
